The Perfect Match
by trisanamcgraw
Summary: An Early Edition/Providence crossover. Gary's met the perfect woman, a beautiful lady from Providence, Rhode Island, and they have a great relationship. Can you guess who she is? :) Please, R/R!


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The Perfect Match

By Trisana McGraw

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Author's Note: This is my first EE & PR fanfic, and is based during the current season or "Providence" (sort of) and who-knows when in "Early Edition". I watch the shows, but I'm not exactly up to date. So, if I make any mistakes about the timelines (and relationships of the characters) just bear with me.

Gary Hobson's morning started, as all the others did, with a meow and a thump outside his apartment door. With a sigh he rolled out of bed and opened the door. The white and orange cat sat outside his door next to the Paper. 

Gary picked up the newspaper and scanned the first few pages: a woman dies in a car crash; a big company erases years' worth of CD-ROM memory; and, most importantly, a warehouse downtown bursts into flames.

"More emergencies," Gary muttered. He glared at the cat. "Thanks a lot." The animal's only response to his sarcasm was a small meow then he ran into Gary's apartment and made himself comfortable on the couch.

Gary sighed and shut the door.

"Hey, Gary, wait up!" Chuck Fishman, Gary's best friend, called, chasing the black-clothed man. "Gary!" He finally caught up to him, and the two strolled down the streets of Chicago together. "Gar, I just met a great woman–"

"Hang on, Chuck," Gary said. He had stopped by a Dumpster. Glancing at the Paper, he read the headline: **Lost Child Starves to Death**.

Gary leaned over the Dumpster. Inside was a scared-looking child of probably six. "Hey, kid," Gary whispered, "you should go home. You could get hurt, or starve." When the child didn't move, Gary patiently said, "C'mon, we'll take you home." Obediently, the child climbed out, and Gary held her hand.

As they walked away, Chuck tried to continue what he had been saying. "Listen, Gary, I was talking to this pretty woman, pretty young, and–"

"You got a date. Great," Gary said, not paying attention.

"I wish," Chuck sighed. "She didn't seem very interested with me, but when I mentioned you, she said–"

He stopped as they reached the child's house. Gary walked the six-year-old up the steps and through the door to her waiting mother, who thanked Gary extensively. He accepted her thanks politely. Glancing again at the Paper, Gary saw that the headline had been changed; his job there was complete.

He and Chuck resumed walking, and Chuck was about to continue, when a car sped around the corner. Gary ran after it, followed by Chuck. When they rounded the corner, they saw two cars driving past the speed limit, about to collide.

Gary wasted no time. He ran into the street in front of the car they had just seen, waving his arms and yelling, "Stop!"

By now people had come from out of coffee houses and work buildings to watch. The car was speeding along, but once the woman saw Gary, she pushed on the brakes. With a loud screech, the car ground to a stop. Dust flew up from the street as everyone on the sidewalk watched anxiously. When the dust cleared, Gary stood in the street, unharmed. The other driver behind him had stopped as well and got out of his car to begin yelling at the woman driver. Gary took this opportunity to walk away. Chuck rejoined him as they continued strolling.

"I hate it when you do that," he informed his friend. "Now, Gary, listen to me. This woman I met sounded interested in _you_, of all people, and I kind of set you up for . . ."

Gary had been flipping through the Paper, but now he looked up at Chuck. "You didn't."

Chuck nodded. "I did. You've got a blind date tonight."

Gary opened his mouth to argue, but suddenly he looked at the Paper and saw another headline. Without a word, he turned and began walking toward the train station, bent on changing another emergency.

"Gary!" Chuck shouted after him. But his friend didn't respond. "I give up," Chuck muttered, and started in his own direction.

Gary had enough to deal with that day besides thinking of the blind date that Chuck had set him up with. He pushed the thought out of his mind, and concentrated instead on "saving the world" as his friends jokingly called his job.

Finally, at about 6:00 in the evening, he entered McGinty's. With a sigh he sat down and got himself a drink. At that point Chuck sat at his table, across from him, with his own drink.

"So, Gar, have you at least thought about what I said?"

"What, about the blind date and the fact that I'm not going?" Gary replied shortly.

"What?" Chuck asked. "C'mon, Gar, it's been over a year since your wife divorced you. You've got to get on with life."

Gary said nothing, absently rubbing his left ring finger, where he had used to wear his wedding band.

"I know it's hard," Chuck said, trying to sound sympathetic. "But you should give this a try. She's really nice."

Gary nodded slowly. "Fine."

"Good, because we need to meet her here in forty-five minutes."

"What?"

"Oh, yeah. The date's set for tonight at McGinty's, about 6:45. Didn't I tell you?"

"No." Gary shook his head grimly. "You never do."

Some time later, the two men stood together talking and waiting for Gary's date.

"So, who _is_ this woman?" Gary asked. "I don't remember you telling me anything about my blind date."

"Her name is Joanie Hansen, and she's a single mom from Providence, Rhode Island," Chuck replied.

"East coast." Gary nodded.

"Look, that's her," Chuck said suddenly, and pointed. Across the bar, seated at a table, were two women, both with dark brown hair; one whose was long and curly, the other's shorter and straighter.

Chuck led Gary over to the table. As they approached, the woman with short hair–also the younger of the two–looked up.

"Joanie, this is my friend Gary," Chuck pointed at his friend. "Gary, this is Joanie Hansen." He sounded a little bitter, since he hadn't been able to snag the woman earlier.

"Hi, Gary," Joanie said enthusiastically, standing up and holding out a hand, all the while smiling radiantly.

Gary shook her hand politely, saying, "Nice to meet you." He and Chuck sat down beside the two women. But no one had anything to say, and just to break the awkward silence, Gary asked, "So, uh, where's your kid? I mean, Chuck told me you were a mom and all."

"Oh, I left Hannah at our hotel," Joanie said. "I would have had Syd baby-sit her, but she wanted to come along." When Gary and Chuck both looked confused, Joanie added, "Sorry, I didn't introduce my sister, Sydney. Syd?"

Syd had not been listening to anything going on, apparently bored. Now she blinked at the three. "What? Sorry."

Joanie introduced Gary and Chuck to her sister. Syd politely said hello, obviously not very interested; but when her eyes fell on Gary, she stopped in the middle of her greeting, her hazel eyes studying him intently, as if she had been waiting all her life to meet someone like him. He too felt his breath catch in his throat. Any interest he might have had in Joanie immediately vanished as he silently beheld Syd. 

The two stared solemnly at one another for what felt to them like an eternity. Nothing seemed to matter at that moment except one another, whom they hardly knew but felt totally comfortable with. Gary could have sworn he heard faint violin music playing in the background.

Finally, Chuck broke the silence. "Say, would you ladies like something to eat, `cause I know Gary and I are starved. Right, Gary?"

Gary nodded. "Oh, right." Then he realized that he should stop staring at Syd. She reluctantly pulled her eyes away as well, a light flush creeping up her cheeks.

As the four drank and ate, Gary and Syd became engaged in a long conversation. Syd told about herself: being a doctor in a small-town clinic, and leading an otherwise peaceful life. When she asked about Gary's life, though, he replied only that he lived above McGinty's and was unemployed. Of course, he didn't add the Paper, feeling the need not to.

"So, let me get this straight," Gary was saying. "You left LA for Providence–not that I'm being offensive, but–"

"I know," Syd smiled, "it sounds weird. But I just didn't have anything going for me there, after I . . . broke up with my boyfriend. I just haven't found the right man yet." At her last words she fixed her eyes on Gary, obviously waiting for his reply.

"Um, yeah, that–that can get you down," he said, feeling like a twelve-year-old with his first crush. Syd found his awkwardness amusing, though, and they both laughed.

While the two were engaged in conversation, Joanie sighed. She knew that Gary didn't have any interest in her–not that she had, either; Joanie wasn't very interested in dark, brooding men. But now she had no date.

Chuck saw her boredom as the perfect opportunity to win her affection again.

"Say, Joanie, ever had an interest in stocks?"

The woman sighed and turned all her attention to her drink.

The evening turned out to be better than Gary had thought it would. After thanking them for dinner, Syd told Gary the hotel that she, Joanie, and Joanie's daughter Hannah were staying at. Chuck hid a whistle when Syd added, "I'd like to see you again, Gary." Then she and Joanie left by cab.

"You've got it made, Gar," Chuck informed his friend as they reached the street where they would part ways.

Gary nodded with a small smile. "It was a good idea for that date, Chuck."

__

Good for you, his friend thought. Still, he gave Gary a friendly punch in the arm and left for his home. Gary started back to his apartment.

"It seems that you two liked each other," Marissa said, holding her coffee cup. It was a few days after the date and Gary and Chuck had told her all that had happened–actually, Chuck had done most of the talking while Gary drank and studied the Paper.

"You wouldn't believe it," Chuck told Marissa. "The way those two were looking at each other, you'd've thought no one else was there."

"Sounds like you should ask her out," Marissa suggested to Gary.

Chuck nodded. "And now's as perfect a time as ever to," he said, and pointed. Gary followed his finger and saw Sydney standing at the bar ordering a drink. "Hey, Syd! Over here."

The woman came over to their table, carrying a paper bag in one hand. "Morning," she said, smiling. She indicated the bag. "I was getting something for Joanie and me, since the breakfast place at the hotel stinks." She noticed Marissa sitting next to the men. "Hi, I'm Syd Hansen." She held out a hand, and Marissa shook it. But Syd noticed that the dark-skinned woman didn't look at her.

Seeing her confusion, Gary offered, "Marissa's blind."

"Oh." Syd smiled. "It's nice to meet you anyway. I once knew a blind woman–she was very nice, and she helped my sister with baking chowder once." She smiled to herself at the memory.

"Hey, why don't you sit down?" Chuck offered Syd a chair.

"Thanks," she said, sliding into it. "I don't think Joanie or Hannah will mind if I spend a few minutes talking with friends." She set the paper bag on the table.

Chuck nudged Gary in the side. "Ask her," he murmured.

Gary gave his friend a look, then said, "Ah, Syd?"

"Yes?" she asked, fixing her gaze on him.

"I, well . . ." Gary struggled with his words. "Are you doing anything tomorrow? I mean, I know this great dinner place, and I was wondering if you'd like to go?"

"That sounds great." Gary kept thinking that Sydney's smile was radiant. "In fact, tomorrow night would be perfect, because Joanie and I only have a week or so left on our vacation."

"So . . . I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Sure." Syd glanced down at the paper bag. "I had better bring breakfast back to the hotel. It was nice to meet you all; I'll see you tomorrow at seven, Gary," she added as she stood up. Syd waved and left.

"You have got it made, buddy!" Chuck laughed.

Gary nodded, then noticed an article in the Paper: **Broken Fire Hydrant Floods Streets.** "Gotta go," he sighed.

Syd, Joanie, and Hannah were staying at the Hilton, Gary later found out as he was walking there. He went inside and asked for the Hansen room. After that, he walked slowly up to Room 587 and knocked on the door. He then stood waiting and fidgeting. Chuck had insisted on something very casual, and in the end he and Gary had come to a compromise; but even in those clothes he felt uncomfortable.

He briefly considered knocking on the door again, then decided against it, not wanting to seem impatient.

Presently the door opened. Syd stood there. Upon seeing Gary, she smiled warmly. "Hi, Gary. Sorry it took me a moment–I was getting dressed."

Seeing her, he could see why she had taken a moment longer: Syd wore a short, sleeveless black dress that brushed against her knees and black high-heeled shoes on her feet. She had done up her hair so that only her brown bangs fell to frame her face.

"Well, you look lovely," Gary said with a grin. Syd smiled back.

"Hey, you two," a voice called. Joanie poked her head in around the doorway. "Have fun," she said, "while the little sister gets to stay home and take care of Hannah-Banana." She cradled her daughter, who wore the same style of pajamas as her mother.

"`Bye, Joanie!" Syd called as she closed the door. "So, where are we going for dinner?" she asked Gary as they started to the elevator.

"I was thinking of a new Italian restaurant," Gary said. They entered the elevator and he pressed the button for the lobby. The elevator started down, carrying him, Syd, and an old woman.

"Sounds good," Syd said. "I haven't had a chance to go to a nice restaurant for a while."

Gary nodded. He let his eyes stray to Syd again; she smiled at his look. Gary averted his eyes; but in doing so, accidentally glanced down at the Paper, stuffed in his pocket. A front-page headline read **Restaurant Diners Poisoned by Food**. He whipped out the Paper and scanned the article; just his luck, the restaurant was the one they were about to go to.

Syd laughed. "You certainly enjoy reading your paper."

"Uh–yeah, I guess so." Gary stuffed the Paper back in his pocket. "Syd, I was just thinking–that restaurant isn't so good. We should find somewhere else to go."

Syd's smile faded into a frown. "What? But you just said this morning that the place was great."

"Yeah, but I was wrong. I've been hearing a few bad things about the place."

Syd placed her hands on her hips. "Are you trying to back out of this date, Gary?" she asked, suspicion creeping into her voice.

"Good girl," the old woman said. "Stand up to him."

Both glanced at her, and Gary said, "Do you mind?" To Syd he said, "No! Of course not. I was just–"

"Look, I'm no psychologist, but if you're feeling uncomfortable, Gary–"

No. Gary was convinced that the Paper would _not_ ruin his date. Gary shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Good. Then we can go to the Italian restaurant," Syd said.

The elevator had stopped at the lobby. Gary and Syd went out, as did the old woman. "Good girl," she repeated to Syd as she left for the front desk.

Gary glared at her again; but it didn't last long, because Syd made him face her. They started walking as Gary inwardly cursed the Paper, and what it did to his life.

All through the dinner, Gary acted tense, ready for what the Paper predicted. But he and Syd were able to enjoy their dinner, though. 

But only then for a short while, because in the middle of eating their pasta, Gary stole a glance at the Paper. The article was the same as before; nothing had changed. He muttered something incomprehensible.

"Gary, what is it?" Syd asked. She had begun to grow tired of his distractedness, but smart woman that she was, she had no idea what was wrong.

Gary looked up past her and saw a waiter coming toward a table, carrying a platter full of food. Immediately, Gary jumped up and ran toward him.

"Gary?" Syd asked, beginning to rise from her chair. "All right. . . ."

"Excuse me," Gary said, stepping forward in front of the waiter trying to serve the food, "but I don't think you should serve that food."

"Why not?" the guy asked. He tried to step past him, but Gary continued to block him.

"Trust me, that food's bad."

The waiter frowned. "How do you know?"

"Trust me," Gary repeated, urging.

"What's going on?" The manager of the restaurant, seeing the delay, had come forward. 

"This man"–the waiter nodded at Gary–"says that I'm serving bad food."

The manager turned a furious gaze on Gary. "How dare you insult our restaurant's food? I'll have you know that our food is the finest!"

"I'm telling you, the food's bad," Gary argued. "You'll poison the customers."

"And who are you to tell us what's what?"

By now nearly everyone in the restaurant had turned away from his or her meals to watch the argument, and some started adding their protests.

"Insane, he is," the waiter said, and tried to push past Gary again.

"You've got to believe me–" Gary argued, moving to block him. But he accidentally knocked into the platter. All the food flew up into the air and fell onto some of the customers, as well as the waiter and the manager. People shouted as food fell into their laps or into their drinks.

"Gary, what's going on?" Syd asked. She had left the table to stand next to him.

"It's kind of a long story . . ." he started to explain, when the manager interrupted.

"You–" he spluttered, wiping sauce off his jacket, "you–get out!"

Later, Gary and Syd were walking down the street. It had grown colder, and Syd now wore a black sweater; Gary had offered his coat as well, but she politely refused. Now they walked in silence.

They kept walking quietly until they reached a bridge. They stood leaning over the railing and gazing at the water below them.

"It's beautiful," Syd sighed.

__

Like you, Gary wanted to say, but he felt tongue-tied. Instead, he just nodded.

They started to walk away, when Gary suddenly stopped and said, "Wait, Syd–I want to show you something."

She turned, interested, and let Gary lead her over to the railing again.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'll show you in a minute," Gary said. He covered her eyes with his hands and waited until the moon was in a perfect position over the water. Then he took his hands off and said, "You can look now."

Syd opened her eyes and gasped at the beautiful scene in front of them: the water sparkled silver beneath the moonlight; and beyond that, they could see the lighted, but still bustling, city of Chicago.

"It's even more beautiful," Syd said, turning to Gary with a smile. "Living in a small town, I wouldn't know this."

Gary nodded, smiling himself.

Slowly, Syd moved a little closer to him. Gary was surprised when she put her arms around his neck; even more so when she leaned in to kiss him. But he didn't protest, and put his arms around her waist. 

The kiss was short, and they both pulled away soon.

"What was that for?" Gary asked.

Syd's smile seemed almost serene. "I guess a pretty night with moonlight can make you do funny things."

"I guess so," Gary replied, and put his arm around her waist again. "Syd . . . would you like to come to my apartment for coffee or something?"

"I'd love to." She smiled, and the two of them walked along together to Gary's apartment.

"I'm sorry about tonight," Gary apologized, opening the door. "It wasn't . . . what I hoped it would be."

Syd followed him into his apartment. "It's all right," she said, gracing Gary with a smile. "It was great going to that nice restaurant–even if the food was poisoned." She laughed, and Gary did as well.

Syd's laughing quieted, and she asked, "But how did you know that was going to happen?"

Gary had no idea what to say; so he changed the subject by asking, "Do you want any coffee?"

Syd nodded, but her forehead was wrinkled in a frown.

Gary went to his small kitchen and returned a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. He handed one to Syd and joined her on the couch.

Syd still wore a questioning look on her face, so much that Gary found himself saying, "I just . . . knew, about the food. It's nothing–I mean, it really doesn't matter," then realized that he was babbling and immediately stopped talking.

Syd laughed softly again. "I've dated a couple of guys since my return to Providence," she said, "but you're . . . different. In a good way." An almost awkward silence fell upon them then, and the two sipped their coffee.

"So, uh, do you want to watch a movie?" Gary asked after a while.

Syd shook her head, looking at him. She subtly scooted a little closer to Gary. He put an arm over her shoulders, allowing himself a small smile at the fact that Syd let him do so.

Syd set her cup down on the table and turned so that she faced Gary, and she placed her arms around his neck; he felt strangely comfortable with her closeness.

"I like guys who are different," Syd said softly.

"Really?" Gary asked in the same tone. He idly began to play with her dark, curly hair. Syd's light hazel eyes seemed to bore into his darker ones.

She nodded, then leaned forward and kissed him softly. Gary wrapped his arms around her, and they fell back on the couch, their coffee forgotten.

Gary opened his eyes and let them adjust to the light streaming through the window. He took a few moments to wake up, then looked at the clock. It read 7:45. 

It took a few moments for this to sink in before Gary shot up off the couch, fully awake. Why hadn't the cat with the Paper waked him up? And where was Syd? The two of them had fallen asleep on the couch last night–nothing bad, just some kissing–but now she was nowhere to be seen.

The orange-and-white cat sat on the edge of the couch and meowed when Gary noticed him, as if to say, _I don't have the Paper._

Gary was about to rush out the door, when it opened, and Syd came in. She wore a bright smile, and her dress from the previous night, but her hair was down.

"Good morning, Gary," she said brightly. "I was just getting some fresh air. I picked up your paper for you, by the way."

"Thanks," Gary said, and started to quickly reach for the Paper. But Syd pulled it back. 

"Hang on," she said, "I just want to look at something." She started reading an article. Gary clenched his hand into a fist and muttered a few choice words.

After a few moments, Syd looked up, frowning. "Gary, I think there's something wrong with your paper. The date's wrong, and . . ." Her voice trailed off as it finally registered, and her eyes widened. "So that's it. . . ."

"Yeah," Gary muttered, taking the Paper from her.

"But how–how did you get it? _When_ did you get it?"

"I get it every morning from the cat on my doorstep. It started some time after I got divorced," Gary replied, his answers short. But Syd sat him down on the couch and made him explain it in more detail.

When he finished, he was afraid to look at her, afraid that Syd would be appalled, or horrified. But neither expressions showed on her face; only a slight frown that betrayed none of her thoughts.

Finally she looked up at him–and laughed. "I _knew_ that there was something different about you. And I thought _I_ was the only weird one–I see the ghost of my mom in my dreams, you know."

"Really?" Gary laughed.

Syd laughed too, then she was silent for a few moments more, until she asked, "So, what wrongs are you going to right today?"

Gary scanned the articles in the Paper. "Just minor things," he told Syd, "car crashes, lost kid, injured pet."

"Maybe I can help you then," Syd offered.

Gary shook his head. "No, you can't."

"Why not? Things aren't that dangerous."

"That's just the problem," Gary said. "Some of the things here _are_ dangerous, and I . . . I don't want you getting hurt."

Syd looked as if she were battling between indignity and smiling. Finally she sighed and said, "That's very sweet, and I guess you're right." She sighed again and got up. "I better get going."

"Wait–I'll get you a cab," Gary said. He and Syd walked downstairs and outside.

As Gary held open the door to the cab for Syd, he said, "I'll–I'll be seeing you around, right?"

"Sure thing," she replied, and smiled at him. She closed the door, and the cab left.

Gary and Syd's relationship was pretty steady after that. They went out on several dates over the next couple of days, all of them being wonderful.

Gary enjoyed Syd's company; she was an intelligent and beautiful woman, and conversation never seemed to tire between them. Syd must have felt the same, because she was charmed by his good-guy attitude, and loved talking with him. One major thing they discussed was the Paper. After keeping the secret for so long, Gary found it satisfying to discuss it all with someone else besides Chuck and Marissa. It seemed that he and Syd were perfect for one another.

Gary was reflecting on this as he and Chuck ordered a drink at the bar at McGinty's.

"Hey, Gary, you look preoccupied. What's up?" Chuck asked.

"It's about Syd," Gary began, when Chuck stopped him.

"I thought everything was fine between you two."

"It is," Gary said. "That's what's got me thinking. . . . I _really_ like Syd–I might even love her. And it made me think that maybe I should–"

Chuck cut him off, exclaiming, "You want to ask her to marry you?"

"No!" Gary hissed, though he glanced around conspiratorially. "I just want to ask her if maybe she'll stay here in Chicago." He took a sip from his drink, then asked with worry edging his voice, "Do you think she'll say no?"

Chuck shrugged. "I'm not the one to ask." He clapped Gary on the shoulder. "Go ask her and see. That's the best I can say."

Gary nodded, thanked Chuck, and left.

Watching his friend go, Chuck sighed. "Why is it _he_ gets all the serious relationships?" he muttered to himself, and drank.

"Gary," Syd exclaimed, as she opened the door, "what are you doing here?"

"I just–wanted to talk to you," he replied. ". . . May I come in?"

"Oh, sure." Syd let him come through the doorway, then closed the door. Inside the apartment, hers and Joanie's bags were on the bed, partly filled with clothes. "Sorry," Syd added. "We're packing, and the room's getting crowded."

"Packing?" Gary repeated. "Why?"

"We're leaving in a couple of days," Syd replied, as if he knew that. Then her expression turned to one of regret. "Oh, I didn't tell you. Joanie and I have to get back to Providence. We're already staying longer than we said we would."

Gary said nothing, but his face betrayed his emotion. 

"Gary, are you all right?" Syd asked, frowning worriedly. "You look odd."

Gary jerked out of his reverie and shook his head. "No, no, I'm fine."

"All right. . . . But what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, that–Can you meet me at the bridge later?"

"Sure." Syd smiled. "I'll see you there." 

Gary nodded and left.

Gary heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see Syd come walking towards him, wearing a coat in the cool weather.

"Hey," she said when she came up to him. They exchanged hugs, and Syd asked, "So, what did you want to ask me?"

Gary replied, "It's a very important matter; but I–I don't know how to say it. Look," he said after a moment's pause.

Syd did, and they both gazed out at Chicago like they had so many nights ago.

"Where we had our first date," she said softly.

Gary nodded, and decided that now was the best time to speak. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said, and took Syd's hands in his. He drew a deep breath, then said, "I've enjoyed every moment of time that I've had with you, and–I want to keep having those times."

Syd's eyes grew a little wider, and she said, "But–Joanie and Hannah and I have to go back home."

"Why don't you stay here?" Gary asked. When Syd said nothing, he went on, "I want you to stay, Syd. Please." His eyes were dark and imploring.

Syd pulled her hands away, saying, "I–I can't. My home is in Providence. My job is there. I can't just leave everyone there. Gary, you have to understand. I'm sorry. . . ."

Gary was crushed. But he clenched his teeth and said, "It's fine." But then he added, "No, it isn't. Syd, I want you to stay."

Though she couldn't help but be flattered, his commanding attitude made her anger flare. "I'm sorry, Gary," she repeated, "but I _have_ to go home."

"Why are you just going to leave me?" he asked angrily.

Syd laughed bitterly. "When I first came here, it was on a vacation. I didn't know that I would get involved in a serious relationship, and we have to make sacrifices."

"But I may never see you again," Gary argued.

"Maybe that's how it will end up," Syd said quietly. Before he could respond, she turned and walked quickly away.

"I don't believe it," Gary muttered for about the fifteenth time, "that she could say no' so quickly."

Chuck and Marissa were listening, but neither of them had given advice yet. Now, Marissa spoke up.

"Gary, Syd _was _partly right. She has her own life as a doctor, just as you have yours as a . . . person who saves lives."

"Speaking of that, where's my Paper?" Gary asked. "I was in a hurry this morning, and I forgot it."

"Right here," Chuck said, and handed his friend the Paper. "The mangy cat gave it to me, since you didn't get it."

Gary took the Paper and skimmed the articles, not expecting much. But suddenly his eyes widened, and he whispered, "No."

"What is it?" Chuck and Marissa asked at the same time, leaning forward to see.

Gary read aloud the article he had seen. "**Hilton Hotel Burns to the Ground**. At 9:30 on the night of Friday, December first, the Hilton Hotel on Fourth Street suffered a fire. The firemen and police have not identified the cause for the fire, or even the arsonist, if it was what happened.'" He fell silent, then read aloud again, " Among the victims who suffered severe burns and deaths were sisters Sydney and Joanie Hansen and Joanie's child Hannah.'" He looked up. "Did you hear that? They're going to get hurt, and we have to help them! Now, c'mon, let's go before we're too late!"

The three of them, as well as Marissa's guide dog Spike, jumped up from the table and ran out the door. 

"So, you said no' to him?" Joanie asked while brushing her hair. Syd was curling her hair.

"What was I supposed to say?" Syd protested. She sighed and added, "It was scary. First, he was asking me to stay; what if he asked me to marry him? What would I do?"

"Don't ask me," Joanie said. "I've gone through several serious relationships, and twice when I should have married."

"And, yet, Gary's such a sweet guy," Syd continued. "But, there was at least _one_ thing that unnerved me about him."

"What, does he not brush his teeth?" Joanie asked.

Syd laughed and shook her head. "It's not like that. Never mind. But anyway, our relationship wouldn't have worked, probably." Her words felt false, different from what she felt.

"Sound like someone's in denial," Joanie noted.

"I am not!" Syd argued hotly.

"Fine," her sister relented, holding up her hands. Joanie stepped into the bedroom, calling, "But it sounds like you two could really have something."

"No, we couldn't," Syd said. Then, to herself, she whispered, "Yes, we could." Sighing, she pulled the curlers out of her hair and started out the door. But in her haste, she didn't notice the curlers that dropped to the carpet, still smoking.

A loud knocking and shouts awoke the Chicago fire chief. Wondering who was at the door, he went to answer it.

Upon opening the door, he was met by three adults and a dog. "What do you want?" the fire chief asked.

"There's going to be a fire tonight," one of the people said.

"What?" the chief asked, frowning. "How do you know?"

"My name is Gary Hobson, and I have it under good authority."

"Trust me, he knows," the woman spoke up.

The fire chief was still unimpressed, when Gary suddenly shouted, "Look!" and pointed across the city. In the far distance, they could see bright flames rising from the Hilton Hotel to lick the night sky.

"God, you're right!" the chief cried. He pulled the fire alarm, making the other fireman wake up and get ready.

"Wait–can we come with you?" Gary asked.

"Sure–hop on the truck!"

The three of them did, and soon the fire trucks were speeding down the streets, lights blazing and sirens on.

Syd slept restlessly. Sometime in the middle of the night the smell of smoke and the screeching of fire alarms suddenly awaked her.

"What–what's going on?" she asked, getting up.

"Syd!" Joanie screamed. "The hotel is burning!"

"Oh, my God!" Syd yelled. She helped Joanie get Hannah out of her crib, and the two women started making their way out the door. But when they opened the door, they were met with a blazing wall of fire. They screamed and fell back.

"Where will we go?" Joanie shouted over the roar of the flames.

"I don't know," Syd confessed. _I wonder if Gary foresaw this too?_ she thought to herself.

A large object burst into flames beside them. Syd and Joanie fell back to avoid being burned.

Finally, they were forced into a corner. The women huddled down, Joanie cradling Hannah, and started screaming for help.

The Hilton Hotel was alight with flames when the fire trucks arrived, and immediately the fireman began loading the hoses and spraying. By now residents of the neighborhoods beside the hotel had emerged from the homes to watch breathlessly as the fireman battled with the flames. The water was working, but fire and smoke still rose in the building.

__

Syd's in there, Gary thought. _I've got to help her._ He started forward, but was held back by two fireman. Gary broke free, though, and sprinted inside the building.

"Gary!" Chuck shouted. "What are you doing?"

"What?" Marissa asked.

"He's going inside to save them!" Chuck answered.

"Oh, God . . ." Marissa gasped, and she joined Chuck in shouting, "Gary!"

Even if he had been able to hear their screams, Gary wouldn't have turned back. He ran inside and up the flights of stairs, shouting to everyone, "Get out of the hotel!" Once he got to the fifth floor, he began banging on every door, shouting, "Fire! Get out of your rooms!"

People began running out of the rooms. Gary directed them down the stairs and then kept going. He passed tons of rooms; and at every single one he told the people to go. But he still hadn't reached the Hansen women's room.

Finally, he reached Room 587 and jerked open the door. From inside the room, he could hear screaming, and he ran toward the voices, calling, "Syd! Joanie!"

The screams quieted, and Syd called, "Gary?"

Gary kept running until he had found the women huddled in a corner. Immediately, Syd jumped up and hugged him.

"Oh, my God, Gary. . . ." she whispered into his cheek.

"Come with me," he instructed, and led them downstairs, running as fast as they could. 

They burst out of the front doors, and Gary shouted to the firemen, "Everyone's out!" The firemen began adding more and more water, and soon the fire was under control, although smoke still rose from the blackened building.

Joanie held Hannah tightly and whispered assurances to her daughter. Syd hadn't loosened her hold on Gary, and she hugged him tighter. Gary wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek against her curly hair.

Finally, Syd let go of him. "Where will we go, now that the hotel was destroyed?" she asked Gary.

"I'm sure we can find some spare beds for you," Gary answered.

Syd and Joanie nodded, and they–with Hannah–Gary, Chuck, Marissa, and Spike began walking back to McGinty's. 

"Sir," the fire chief called to Gary, "thanks for that tip on the fire. You probably saved countless people."

Gary nodded and wrapped an arm around Syd, who laid her head on his shoulder, and they walked back.

The next day, Syd and Joanie packed the only belongings salvaged from the fire and prepared to leave Chicago for Providence.

After they had checked in at the airport, and there was only fifteen minutes until the plane arrived, Joanie took Hannah for a diaper change while Syd hung back with Gary and Chuck.

She looked at Gary with a mixture of joy and sadness in her eyes. "I guess this is it," she announced.

"Yeah," Gary replied, but his words sounded dead.

"It wouldn't have worked, Gary," Syd said, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," he said.

Syd gave him a final tight hug. She whispered, "But that doesn't mean we can't still be friends."

"All right," Gary whispered, hugging her tightly back.

  
Syd kissed his cheek and pulled back, tears in her eyes.

Chuck was growing tired of this emotional display, and held out a hand to Syd. "Enjoy your trip back."

"I will, thanks," Syd said, shaking his hand. "Good-bye, Chuck."

"Is it time to leave?" Joanie asked, having returned with Hannah. 

"Soon," Syd answered.

Joanie shook hands with the men, exchanging good-byes as well.

Too soon, the announcement came for everyone to begin boarding the plane.

"That's us," Joanie said. "Come on, Syd."

They gave their tickets to the woman at the counter, and began walking through the doorway. They stopped, though, to wave good-bye again. Joanie waved Hannah's hand for her, and she and Syd waved as well.

"Have a safe trip!" Gary called. ". . . .`Bye."

The Hansen women waved once more, then walked through the doorway.

"Hey, Gar, you ready to go?" Chuck asked quietly.

Gary nodded reluctantly, and they began walking back to the garage.

"You gonna be okay now?" Chuck asked, sensing his friend's melancholy attitude.

"Yeah," Gary sighed. "Everything was just great–for a while, at least."

As they drove back, and Gary went about his daily business, saving people from accidents and preventing disasters, his mind always went back to the beautiful Sydney Hansen, and their wonderful relationship, however short-lived. And though he someday found another woman, he still felt a small ache at losing Syd.

And, though he didn't know it, in Providence, Rhode Island, Syd felt the same.


End file.
